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Amb. Diana Mehmeti

Morning will become a bird,
to fly lush in your embrace,
The vineyard keeper will tease over hair,
the white rose will hold from your hand…

When you come – the day will be a fairytale name,
New light will take the alleys, streets, the city…
All the trees in the yard will bloom,
I won’t know who to rejoice for first, poor me!

The sea will be enchanted by the dance of fish,
the worried old boatman will be startled,
will lower the sails not to frighten them.

When you come your kiss will taste like peach,
that has blushed with shame in the corner,
birds like never before will return to autumn,
with golden pieces of hope in their beaks.

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